About Me & My Family History, The Rest of the Story #4

Christian Heritage

My familial upbringing contributed significantly to the making of who I am. Christian faith was an integral part of our family dynamics. I was raised with a Christian worldview. My parents’ perspective viewed everything including our choices with a spiritual purpose in mind and that we should live our lives that way. We didn’t add on Christianity, we lived it.

My father farmed row crops and orchard crops. We children always worked on the farm. We learned to be careful, responsible, and to think for ourselves. Our family lived simply with few frills. I didn’t resent this. It was a way of life. It made me value hard work. I knew I was well-loved.

Both my parents and all my siblings are lovely people. My father is a man with integrity, an honorable man. Not many come as honest as he is. I have Mother to thank for her encouragement of music, spiritual guidance, and academic support. Both parents built character and responsibility into our lives. They also were rather strict in what they allowed and didn’t allow, as was our church.

Protestant in theology, Baptist in church association, strong in Biblical teaching and personal accountability, we children developed our Christian walk through the home, church, and our college choices. I did see a few chinks in the armor, though. Later I would come to see areas of my Christian identity in a somewhat differing and expanded way. God would bring this to pass in His time.

Christian College

Triple Trio. I’m in the back row, far left.

My first venture out of the home was to attend a bible college: Western Baptist Bible College in Salem, OR. During my sophomore year, WBBC became a liberal arts college and changed its name to Western Baptist College, and now it’s Corban University. My major was Christian Education. Music, voice, and art were side studies. I traveled in music groups on weekends–concert choir and Triple Trio–whereby representing the school by performing in supporting churches.

At WBC, I loved the dynamics of being with like-minded peers. All WBC college students were required to complete 30 units of Bible and every student had to pass a Christian Theology test to graduate. Christian service was another requirement. I participated in jail ministries, music ministries, and as a puppeteer. I am grateful for the Bible-based coursework, for it contributed to my life by grounding my faith in spiritual truth.

After college, I returned to my hometown of Chico, California. I immediately began teaching at Paradise Christian school. I broke up with my college boyfriend and started to date a local man. He was a brand new believer from a nonspiritual background. He had become a Christian while stationed at Fort Lewis, WA. We first met at my church in Chico, and later became better acquainted after he was discharged from the Army. We married in 1980. My husband lacked the family/religious structures that played so significantly in my life. Our differences would not bode well for us.

Family and Church

1986

In 1982, I stopped teaching when our first child was born. My husband and I would eventually have five children. I was a stay-at-home mom. I didn’t want anyone else to raise my children even though it meant there was limited resources, and usually there wasn’t much money. Homemaking was what I did for nine years, and it was my favorite occupation ever. In 1992 we lived in Westwood, CA. After being encouraged to substitute teach by my third child’s kindergarten teacher, I passed the C-Best and reentered the teaching field as a substitute on a part-time basis.

Over the years, my little family was always active in the local church. I served in every church we attended, mostly as a teacher. One thing my family of origin had prepared me for was working in the church. I held many positions over the years i.e. Sunday School teacher, Christian Education Director, Women’s Ministries Director, Choir Director, Children’s Church teacher, AWANA leader, Christmas Program Writer-Director, and speaker.

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I know this post was a long recital, but I’m not a young chick anymore and there was lots to say (and I left a lot out). It is kind of nice to tell you some of my life story. I hope it wasn’t too boring.

More next week.

My Final Goodbye to My Sister, Posthumously

1976, The Brumbaugh Family. Lois is third from left in the back, I’m in front.

A month ago I came across the words I said at my sister Lois’s memorial service. As I remember her life this year on the month of the anniversary of her passing, I wish to share with you what I said that day.

I still feel this way even after all the intervening years. My family was devastated due to the nature of Lois’s death. Our grief was intense, our shock, immense. I wept while I wrote these words as we traveled to Oregon to say our final goodbye to my sister. My heart lay shattered in a million pieces.

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Verbatim, My Words On that Day.

1993, Memorial Service for Lois Brumbaugh

“I’m Norma, a sister of Lois. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Lois, so I want to share what I feel at this time.

Lois–

You were my friend in the days of dolls and dress-up. Always my little sister and biggest fan. As children, we worked and played together. I was often impressed with how you did things. You always did them well–and with a sincere heart.

I remember the days of piano lessons and singing with my sisters. You had such a beautiful gift with the piano. My love for you was clear. You were always my special little sister.

From my five year vantage point…I felt with you as you went through the experiences of growing up into adulthood. I saw so much in you that was exceptional and good. I’ve been so proud of you and your accomplishments. You achieved, you persevered, you always made friends. You forced yourself beyond intense shyness.

You also struggled. There were some difficult years for our family, when we all dealt with troubling issues. I was aware that you felt these things deeply. It wasn’t easy for you, but you just tried all the harder.

Lois, I want to remember many things about you that I admired. You had real class. You were pretty, kind, witty, smart, compassionate, musical, fun, and great with you nieces and nephews. You were a beautiful person.

Many times you lifted me up with encouraging words and cheery cards. You made me feel that I was important and had something to contribute. How I loved you and still love you.

On this day I just want to say that I wish I could have shared your pain.

I recall our Grandpa Brumbaugh saying that rarely do we hear a sermon about “hope.” It seems to be forgotten. He was right. We need hope. Love and faith are complete when hope is present.

So, Lois– this is my attempt at saying goodbye. My sorrow is great. But I know your presence will be with me and all of us always. We will miss you more than you can know.

I’m looking forward to some bright morning when it is my hope and belief that we will embrace once again in God’s perfect land, and I just can’t wait.

Your loving sister, always,

Norma”

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Then this from the past.

This morning I was reading a manuscript I wrote in 2014 (but never published) from my visits to the Vina Monastery, when I came across a passage regarding the loss of my sister, Lois. It was written in September. At the time, I was remembering and grieving her loss like I always do in September.

At the time of the writing, I was sitting in a tiny chapel and praying. I had just walked past a statue of the Shepherd Boy, David that was erected in memory of a CSUC student who had died from suicide in 1986. The statue was donated by the family in his memory. As always, I felt his family’s pain.

As I was reading this a couple hours ago, tears came to my eyes. I saw Lois again in my mind’s eye. Her graciousness and beauty spoke once again. I hope her life speaks to you.

Gone but not forgotten.

This comes at the end of a lengthy prayer session while contemplating in the silence, as the Spirit whispers to my spirit.

“Your sister, Lois, you always sorrow for her this time of year.”

I do. I miss her. I will always miss her.

“She taught you the meaning of love. She loved well. It hurt her in the end. You can’t have love without me. I was calling her, but she wasn’t listening. She never knew my joy. I wanted her to know my peace and joy. It came too late for her. Lois was a special flower. Vibrant. Beautiful. Lovely. She had a genuine quality about her. She didn’t want to be fake. I used her to touch people. I will still use her through your pen. She will sing again.”

Thank you, dear Jesus. Amen

September, 2014